


the facts of life

by candybank



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, canon(??), changed the title sorry miranda, cute broships, i dont fw with idolverse but for u gyuhao..anything, idolverse, side meanie lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 08:15:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18133205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candybank/pseuds/candybank
Summary: “mingyu missing minghao when hao goes to china for qcyn activities”





	the facts of life

**Author's Note:**

> this prompts been sitting in my cc for weeks and ive been having the worst writers block but i woke up in cold sweat at 2 am to write this:) anyway gyuhao have the cutest friendship ever im in my gheelings(gyuhao feelings)

he likes late nights and early mornings. he likes waking up before dusk has cracked, before dawn is made.

“mingyu,” comes a quiet whisper from a small crack in the door. and mingyu is never easy to wake up when he’s dreaming about songs to sing and days to be had, but now, for some reason, his body jumps awake.

“hao?” he calls blindly, and minghao answers by closing the door.

mingyu pulls on the gray sweatpants laying on the floor at the foot of the bed and the red t-shirt slung on the backrest of a chair, and he practically stumbles out of his room. half of him expects minghao to already be gone, or halfway down the hallway, or with one foot already inside an elevator, but he finds him waiting just outside the door, inconspicuous black windbreaker, trackpants and red eyes.

he hasn’t slept, and he’d only woken up mingyu because mingyu had begged him to. and mingyu, he steps outside and accidentally slams the door, and minghao shushes him.

“sorry,” he says, chuckling for some reason.

and for some reason, minghao laughs with him.

wordless understanding and quiet going-along, they walk down the hall together, wait for the elevator together, watching blinking lights and waiting for number signs. “did you eat?” mingyu asks.

“i’ll eat on the plane,” minghao yawns, feet trailing seconds after him. he thinks to take out his phone, but his arms feel too sluggish to even move.

and mingyu, he understands all of this. the quick in-betweens, the sleepless nights,the working until the tiredness is bone-deep. he understands this because he does this to himself too, hosting a show that runs around the clock and practicing choreography and memorizing lyrics for too many songs too many times, all at once, never one-by-one or step-by-step—but still, knowing it doesn’t make watching someone else do it to himself any easier to watch.

so, he nods quietly in understanding, muffling a yawn against the back of his hand.

and minghao says something, maybe something about here’s fine, you don’t have to walk to the van, it’s cold mingyu, go back inside, no really, but mingyu completely misses it, and he steps into the post-winter chill of a morning still too dark and blue.

“oh, shit,” he exclaims when the breeze bites him, lower lip trembling slightly. he wraps his arms around himself and minghao laughs at him.

“told you,” minghao quips, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets and walking ahead.

mingyu drags his feet after him, and opens the door of the van for him.

“thanks,” minghao says, climbing in.

“safe flight,” mingyu tells him, shutting his eyes to fight off a yawn.

“don’t forget to book the wine and paint thing,” minghao reminds him, and mingyu nods. unconvinced, minghao adds, “i’ll text you.”

mingyu nods again.

they exchange quick last bye’s, then mingyu shuts the door and watches the black van drive into the morning. he drags his feet back inside, back into his room, forgetting to turn off the lights in the kitchen.

he thinks of already missing his friend, of the people that must be waiting for him, how he’d forgotten to remind minghao to make sure his eyes aren’t crusty before he steps out into the tarmac.

mingyu makes a beeline for his bed, thinking of slipping under the sheets and feeling around under his pillow for his phone so he can send minghao a message. he thinks of the motions, thinks of going through them, feet dragging two feet behind him.

and he’s still too sleepy to really look at anything, so his heart all but jumps out of his body when he gets into bed and bumps into something solid.

there’s the loud “AH—“ then the dull thud of his butt hitting the wooden floor.

“shhh.”

“wonu?” mingyu squints—not that this hasn’t happened before. he looks around, if only to make sure that he’s in the right place.

“couldn’t sleep,” wonwoo answers, halfway asleep, “your bed’s softer.” he rolls over and pulls the covers back over himself. “just pretend i’m not here,” he says, and in the next minute, he’s snoring.

and mingyu would feel bad if he woke him, so he accepts the facts of life and quietly gets into bed. back facing wonwoo’s back, he lays his head on his pillow, forgetting what he meant to do, thinking only that he hopes minghao’s flight went well, that he hopes the week ends quickly so minghao can be back.


End file.
